


Old and New

by Valadilen



Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Freeform, London, Refugees, Vampires, War, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:07:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29186040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valadilen/pseuds/Valadilen
Summary: When french vampire refugee Anne Morel meets with new blood Jonathan Reid, sh understand there is more than an epidemic at work in the exhausted City of London.Although she simply expected to be a distant help, Anne quickly becomes more than that, as things turn for the strangest in the city.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Freeform Vampyr fanfiction. Enjoy!

It’s been years since she last listened to the chant of life and felt it flow through her like water. The rain had nothing to do with it, nor the fresh air of this London night. Sitting on a roof where no one could reach, Anne was presenting her face to the moon light. The Romanian woman selling herself down in the street was singing a prayer. Her last client had not been kind: singing kept despair at bay and warmed the wounded hearts. The woman had no idea her prayer was mending another one’s heart.

Anne opened her eyes to look at the street beneath her: a group of men were making the rounds. Guard of Priwen if she remembered correctly. Everything was strange and knew here. Back home, those killers were called _Les boucliers des Innocents_ , “The Innocent’s Shield”. They were just as violent as the Guards of Priwen, but were driven by hardened catholic belief.

Down in the street in Whitechapel, there were three men. One robust squad leader escorted by two fighters armed with torches and guns. They were looking for “leaches”, vampires like Anne. All they could feed their need for violence on were Skal and savage creatures. Although the woman never met anyone like her since she arrived in London, she knew she wasn’t alone. An elusive smell kept showing up from time to time all around here; another, less discreet was _walking_ every night in the streets, asking questions and making himself known to the civilians. A new born _without a doubt_ , since this man calling himself Dr Jonathan Reid nether noticed her following him once or twice. He was awfully adorable.

Cristina went home before the men could reach her part of the street: they were hunting vampires, but were also terrible at it. Anyone, in their mind, were potential blood-sucking killing monsters.

Anne was about to do as the mortal woman, but stopped herself. Dr Reid was coming, unaware of the danger… The lady vampire flew across the roofs for a better angle. Before she knew it, the men were already engaged in combat. The new blood was defending himself quite well –the use of a medical saw as a weapon to deal damage and gain blood was smart. But other Guards were coming. The youngling will be overrun in no time. As the fighting when on, one of the Guards was going to get lucky. Anne leaped forward.

The street went silent. Dr Reid heavy breathing slowed down quickly as he realized Anne’s presence; and help. Slowly, he stood up, straight and tall but expecting everything from her. He was wise to be careful: Anne was not belligerent, but had a lot of experience in the Art of Killing.

“While fighting, never turn your back to a path. Who knows what can come out of it?” She said while inspecting the bloody heart resting in her palm. No emotions, no thirst. She studied the organ, noticing its state. The man lived comfortably: his precious heart was filled and covered with gelatinous fat. Was he living such a boring life that he decided to spice things up with a bit of vampire hunting? Fool…

“Who are you?” Dr Reid asked, still on guard, but hoping for answers.

“Does it matter?”

“To me, yes.”

“Anne Morel.” She said. “Everybody knows who _you_ are, Dr Jonathan Reid.”

“Is that so?”

“You present yourself to anyone who’s sane here.” Anne said as she threw away the disgusting human heart. “One only needs to listen.”

Dr Reid wiped his hands on a piece of cloth; Anne did the same.

“May I ask a few questions, Mrs Morel?”

Of course, he wanted to ask questions… Anne looked around. Why not? But not here. She disliked the streets for it held many dangers. Mortals don’t go on roofs during rainy nights unless they want to fall to their deaths. She gave him a gesture to follow, then disappeared into thin air.

* * *

Anne let the chant go through her body. The moon was beautiful once again. Despite the rain, the night queen was visible from the top of the cemetery. Since fleeing France because of the war, the woman felt more lonely than usual. Although she could speak a perfect English, she missed the language, the food and passion of her homeland.

Hours after the encounter with the new blood, the sun rose and Dr Reid did not find her. Anne felt stupid for a brief second: she forgot that a new born vampire did not usually know everything about their own abilities. If no one told him, there was no way Dr Reid could know how to use Shadow Step. Unless… Unless it was not something common in England? It did not matter. Anne rarely left Whitechapel; which could allow Jonathan Reid to find her when he can. Or maybe they’ll cross path again by a strike of odd luck?

Three nights later, Anne was visiting the cemetery. The place was quiet and peaceful. Skal never attacked her, which allowed the woman to go pretty much anywhere. Then her tranquil moment lost its magic when talks and shouts troubled it. Focusing on the voices, the vampire recognized Dr Reid, conversing with an angry man. Fighting again? Men! All the same mortal or not. Anne flew towards the noise, but did not engage right away. There was no combat, however, the tension was palpable as Dr Reid faced a tall and strong human. The mortal believed Dr Reid was using the hospital as his personal feeding grounds, with the help of the administrator. Preposterous, even for Anne: the New Born was not a killer.

She walked, slowly, toward them. Dr Reid could see her, but not the human who was turning his back to her. Anne was not going to attack, but her presence might suggest the Guard of Priwen to pick a fight somewhere else, with someone else.

“Please, no killing.” Begged the new born.

The mortal volte-face quickly, rising his weapons. He understood how his position was fragile.

“I don’t kill for pleasure, Dr Reid.” Anne said. “Only when necessary.”

“Vampires kill for sport, monster! You’re not fooling me!” Spat the human.

She stared at the human, unimpressed. Anne was not a hunter; she did not kill for pleasure. When she does, it is to feed herself.

“Only idiots waste food for sport.” She commented, freezing both men in place. “Your name, mortal.”

“I’m not answering that.”

“This gentleman’s name is Geoffrey McCullum. He leads the local Guard of Priwen.” Said Dr Reid.

The vampire hunter was not pleased to say the least. Although his current situation did not allow for him to make a stupid decision; such as attacking a vampire while another –much more experienced—is watching. Smart man. Angry and paranoid, but smart.

She shrugged. Anne looked at Dr Reid, made sure he had it under control. There was no official order among the Vampires. Not internationally at least. Whatever groups were living in London, Mrs Morel did not feel concerned by any of their business. For the looks of it, Dr Reid was not part of such group either. If he had business with a hostile member of a hostile anti-vampire group, in the end, it would the new blood’s concern. Using her powers, the vampire left quickly the area, leaving the two to whatever business they were conducting. Jonathan Reid was more than capable to deal with one Guard of Priwen.


	2. Chapter 2

Anne had a small hideout in Whitechapel, in an abandoned building near the cemetery. The locals left the block during the war, when London was severely bombed by the Germans. The apartment could only be accessed by shadow jumping on two different balconies, or directly from the opposite roof. When she arrived, Mrs. Morel discreetly cleaned the small place, fixing the walls, the door, windows and roof; replaced the bed, the mattress and anything useful for everyday life. There was no running water in this part of town; after a century, Anne enjoyed the luxury more than she needed it. When Anne was born and reborn, the world did not know the use of running water inside individual housing. Now it was a little more common in comfortable in French city or small town; unfortunately, the French countryside was too poor to afford all the plumbing and installations. The good thing about being a vampire was the absence of need for water to drink: blood only. Thus, Anne only needed water for her hygiene. During those trouble time, going out for water was still a risk, mortal or not.

That night, the lady vampire gave up on getting cleaned: Guards of Priwen were everywhere. Since she was neither thirsty nor willing to fight, Anne decided that remaining inside her hide out was the best course of action. She used this moment to gather her notes on the area. Things were complicated around here: London was on the verge of something big, and it seemed that new blood Jonathan Reid was right in the middle of everything.

Three days after their ran into each other in the cemetery, Anne did not see the good doctor again… The knock on the balcony door both surprised her and gave her pause. The vampire took a deep breath in. Human blood, codeine, hair product and antiseptic. Dr Reid. The man finally figured out where she lived.

Anne opened the window.

“Good evening, Mrs. Morel.” He said.

“Dr Reid.” She replied.

His coat was stained with blood; bad run with the Guards or messy diner? Knowing the man… The Guards were the problem. She let him in.

Since they first spoke, Dr Reid received many answers from another vampire, a Lady Ashburn. Anne met the woman in question a couple of times. They were both well mannered, however had nothing else in common. After fifty minutes of conversation, it became clear to Mrs. Morel that Reid’s situation was not just complicated but damn right impossible to fix. The man was looking for his maker, why he was turned, the cure for the Spanish Flu and a cure for the unusual multiplication of Skals, while living in a country still at war with half Europe. Whatever was going on, there was a higher power involved. _That_ was never good news.

“Although I appreciate the trust, why are you here, Dr Reid?” She wondered.

At this moment, it became clear that the new blood needed a quiet hear to vent. The poor man probably never spoke to any “neutral party” since he became a vampire. Although she was like him, Anne was French, thus not involved in any local political stakes. Knowing the feeling, the woman listened to everything carefully and very seriously.

Mr. McCullum was a growing problem into Dr Reid business. Anne kept the information in mind, since it was something she could deal with, either to help the new blood or to defend herself. From what she heard, the mortal was, indeed, a difficult case of unchecked righteousness. They were violent and abusive vampires: no doubt in that; Anne knew quite a few people like that. Although not all vampires were bloodthirsty monsters. In fact, many tried to find alternative ways to feed without causing damaged: targeting dying humans or on death row one way or another. Some, like Reid, simply refused feed. Such conduct was considered rare.

Listening to Dr Reid’s distress, Anne remembered her own start as a vampire. Unlike Jonathan, she did not have people to help her when she was a new blood.

“I apologize for my poor manner, Mrs. Morel.” He finally said.

“What for?”

“We barely know each other, but you kindly listened to all of my troubles.”

Anne could not stop herself from smiling; although, it was barely visible… The woman truly didn’t mind. Everything was new to a new blood; thus, having a bit of help from an experienced friendly person could not hurt. The fact that Dr Reid was decent man, made things a lot easier too. Too many times Mrs Morel met vampires who had lost their minds to power and violence, sometimes even before they turned into blood-drinking immortals.

After two long hours of civil conversation about vampirism, Anne found herself wanting for a… drink. They still had three or four hours before sunrise.

“I won’t kill.” Dr Reid said, reminding himself that unlike him, Anne wasn’t opposed to kill for food.

What he didn’t know was how she hunted her victims.

“Well. You can follow then. I have something to show you.”

The woman left the apartment, soon followed by a too-curious-for-his-own-good doctor. She jumped to the opposite roof, then ran several blocks towards the docks. At a point, she let herself fall on the ground, where the Guards of Priwen were fewer.

“Where are we going?” Jonathan asked as they walked on the wood street above the water, on the docks.

Anne pointed at something across the water, on the opposite riverbank. She was staring at a group of people, five in numbers. The Wet Boys were conducting their usual shady business, but one of them was a murderer. One might say “So what? He’s a Wet Boy!”. She would then reply “indeed. But Wet Boys don’t eat his victims.” Cannibalism was one of the many taboo subject human societies had. If no one sees it, then it doesn’t exist. If it shows, then it must be brutally dealt with. There were few crimes Anne would consider reason enough to kill the culprit. Cannibalism was one of them, as well as sexual crimes, pedophilia or extreme bullying. In the streets of big cities, bullying was as bad as giving a person a rope and force them to hang themselves.

“the one with blond hair and brown jacket.” She said. “I’ve been watching him for ten days now. He usually does his bad deeds in Whitechapel, but the main group sometimes needs extra muscle to make difficult deals like this one here. He captures his victims. Rape them. Torture them. Eat parts of them while they still live. When they dead, he rapes what’s left of them.”

“That’s monstrous!” Dr Reid exclaimed.

“Tonight, they’ll be one less monster in the streets of London.” Anne said. “Want to join on the hunt?”

“I won’t kill.” He insisted.

“I’m fine with that.”

They both shadow-jumped their way to the other side of the canal. The business meeting was done and the group broke apart. The target was walking back –alone— towards his hideout in Whitechapel. Who knows what could happen to him on the way there? The Vampires had a small idea. As they followed the man, waiting for the right moment, Anne could sense that the new blood was studying her closely. She was a fascinating creature of science. Dr Reid wanted to ask a lot of question.

“Do you only hunt criminals?”

“Yes.”

“Is this rule recent or have you been sticking to it for a long time?”

Anne took a moment to remember. When she was still a mortal, France wasn’t a nation yet: her people were tribes navigating all around, pillaging villager, selling slaves and other goods, before settling down for the season; waging war against other tribes, romans and Christians. When she turned into a vampire, her tribe just had been seduced by the idea of settling permanently on land, in a region now called Normandie. Her habit of hunting down criminals arrived later, when the French Kingdom entered a war which led to the execution of a maiden named Jeanne, in Rouen. Some of the crimes Anne witness sickened her so greatly, she felt the need to cleanse the world of such filth. Since the blood stated the same regardless of the committed sin, the woman took it upon herself to bring before justice those who get away with the most heinous crimes.

“I can’t remember.” She said.

“So… you kill for a good conscience?”

“No. I kill to eat. The fact that my victims are criminals is simply convenient for everybody: I get food, mortals get safety.”

“Your efforts are noble but given current events, fruitless.”

“We are living in a rotten world, Doctor.” Anne said. “You are just starting to see it.”

“I was a soldier. I know.”

“I was a warrior. I’ve seen wars you can’t imagine. You don’t know how big the world truly is and how bad it is. Now keep it down!”

Dr Reid jumped on a roof and observed from above. Hasting, Anne caught up with the target, jumped on him to push him in a dark alley. Not a sound, just a muffled noise of vain defense. Anne grabbed the man tongue and ripped it apart while breaking his arms and kneecaps. He was barely conscious when she sank her fangs in his throats to drink the precious blood with rapacity. She torn off the skin once done, exposing the arteries and trachea; dangling outside the body without purpose. Anne felt life flowing inside of her. The moon was chanting, reminding the woman of how powerful she was.


	3. A possible path and a favor

The man was not only dead. He was _dry._ The lady standing over his body carefully wiped her lips with her handkerchief; then powdered her nose. Like Lady Ashburn, Mrs Anne Morel was a picture of perfection-at-all-times. Her hair was perfect crown on her head, her skin perfectly white, her clothes perfectly clean. Looking at her with only the moonlight gave the woman a mystical aura. She did not look _just_ satisfied with her meal: she was literally radiant. Her skin seemed to be covered with diamonds, her fangs made with the purest ivory on earth. Her eyes usually dark were now bright red. Even her cloths looked better than they did five minutes ago.

“My dear, this will be my last advice to you.” She said.

“Why? What is it?”

“So many questions… You are like a child; in a good way.” She said with a distant look. “I’m leaving London. Your rebirth stirred something. Who knows what? What I do know is that I do not want to be here when it happens.”

Dr Reid did not understand what she was saying; since he did not believe in things like fate. After centuries of life, Anne was too careful to ignore the endless possibilities that could make the future. Her young friend will obviously have a hand at shaping the world. He did so during his life: why not now?

With a gesture, she showed the new blood the man she had killed.

“Power could be at your fingertips should you choose it. Whatever you use it for good or bad matters only to you as you are a vampyr: you will always be judge, harshly, because of that. But know this: there are more than one path. Choose your words and actions carefully: the judges are not always the ones you would expect. If you decide to follow the path that is mine, the first sips are always nauseating. A rotting soul makes a rotting flesh.”

She was ready to leave when Dr Reid stopped her.

“Do you know more than you let on?” He asked.

“I was born when this country could not understand the word “kingdom”, Dr Reid.” Mrs Morel replied. “I will always know more. If you wish me to tell, all you have to do is to ask the right questions.”

“Please, help me.”

Mrs Morel studied the man before her. Dr Reid was facing terrible trials; but asking for help in such manner was slightly strange. There was something wrong. Guilt. He did something he now regretted.

“Show me.” She said.

He took her to the hospital he was working in. Threw the open window, they entered discreetly Dr Reid’s office. On the table was twitching and sweating a man. Mrs Morel recognized Mr McCullum. New Blood of a few hours. She woman could smell Reid’s scent on the wounds.

“He trapped me… We fought. I was so angry…” Dr Reid said.

“Children should not have children.” Bluntly commented Anne. “Don’t do it again. Don’t even think about it again. You changed a man’s life forever.”

Anne looked at the Guard of Priwen. The proud Geoffrey McCullum picked a fight he could not win. Only the Goddess could tell why he did such senseless thing. Yet he was alive because despite his bestial rage, Dr Reid was uncapable of killing. However, the lady vampire did not want to call it mercy since McCullum was having what she called a _difficult birth_. Not everybody knows the sweat kiss of death while turning. Many in fact were very much alive and conscious while the powers of vampires ran havoc in their body, mind and soul. Most of those sorts of people did not survive the changes at all.

What to do with the man? He couldn’t stay in the hospital, since it was Dr Reid’s den. It would raise too many questions if someone ever had the smallest suspicion of strangeness within those walls.

Dr Reid asked _her_ for help, _after_ she told him she was leaving. Normally she wouldn’t mind smuggling someone; but a sickly maybe-new-blood in the middle of a worldwide war? Where would they go? And for what purpose? She could teach McCullum a few things, but as far as he’s concern: she’s a monster, a creature to kill at sight. Sure, he might become the enemy; but Anne met plenty of vampyr-hunting vampires.

Fate knocked on the door.

Or at least, one of the nurses did, in order to get Dr Reid attention.

Anne ran out of time to think. She grabbed McCullum and shadow stepped out of the hospital. Normally, she would have gone directly on the roof on the other side of the canal. However, she was not as strong as some can be: the sick man was heavy and difficult to carry.

Several time she crushed McCullum against a wall to avoid Guard of Priwen’s patrols. Many times, she flirted with death, violence and dangerous situation. None of those experience made her so nervous. How long has it been since she last felt her heart pounding in her chest? As she walked out of London, her eyes found her way up o the night sky. Her Lady was watching. Did the Moon Goddess plan this for her? To flee a big city with a potential new blood while risking her life for him, a total stranger whose only none affiliation is to a hostile group of men?

She kept on walking, keeping the man almost on her back. Mrs Morel was going North. Maybe she’ll find a safe place to hide for the years to come.


End file.
